


Always

by lil_1337



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-29
Updated: 2005-09-29
Packaged: 2017-11-06 10:22:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/417774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_1337/pseuds/lil_1337
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things are worth taking a second chance on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always

We’d fought the night before, but then we’d been fighting a lot lately. I thought it was just one of those bad periods all relationships went through. I’d felt guilty after yelling, “If you don’t like it then leave” at him but I never thought he would actually do it. I regretted the words as soon as they were out of my mouth but I couldn’t tell him that. I was too stubborn, too proud. So instead I stood, silently staring him down until he turned and walked away, never saying a word.

I’d brought dinner, my way of saying I was sorry. I was going to tell him I didn’t mean it, that I never wanted him to go but I was too late. The house was quiet and dark inside and there was a note taped to the refrigerator that simply said _I can’t live like this_. No I’m sorry or I love you just five cold words. I didn’t believe it. He wouldn’t really leave me would he? He swore he loved me, knew I loved him too, with all my heart.

I tore up the stairs and skidded into the bedroom. It must be a mistake. It had to be! His things were gone from the dresser top and the other half of the closet was empty. His battered green duffle was missing from where it usually sat on the floor next to his shoes. I turned and stumbled into the bathroom, trying to process this information and not wanting to accept what I was seeing. My eyes lit on the counter by the sink where his hair gel and brush always sat. It was empty. Trowa never went anywhere without it, even during the war he always had a bottle of the stuff. His hair was completely out of control if he didn’t.

I started to shake then rant and rave. I don’t remember the words or when I put my fist through the mirror. Just the blood stained shards of glass I had to pick up later. I threw a fit that my father would have said was _completely unbecoming of the Winner heir_. It was the middle of the night and freezing cold when I finally came back to an awareness that I was sitting huddled in the corner of the bathroom my bloody fist clutched in my lap. The anger had disappeared leaving emptiness and pain in its wake. I ached like I had never hurt before. Even the guilt, the regrets for what I had done during the war could not compare. That was the past but Trowa had been my future.

I levered myself up off the floor and went to find the first aid kit to bandage my knuckles. Exhaustion welled up but I could not bring myself to lie down on the bed, _our_ bed. Instead I pulled a spare blanket from the linen closet in the hall and staggered down the stairs to the couch. The night was long and full of dark, restless dreams. Still exhausted I was nonetheless grateful when the smell of fresh brewed coffee drifted in from the kitchen. I said a silent thank you to the inventor of automatic coffee machines and rose to try to face the day. I had no idea how I was going to make it through, just that I knew I would. I was heartbroken, lost and lonely but I would survive. I had to. I had things I had to do and people who depended on me.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Time passed and helped to blunt the raw edges that Trowa’s leaving had left on my soul. I might have been denied my happy ever after but there were still things I needed to do, for myself and for peace. I threw myself into my work and into the politics necessary to build a solid foundation of communication between the earth and the colonies. I expanded and molded WEI into a corporation who not only looked to the future but whose humanitarian efforts helped make a difference in the war decimated places both on earth and in space.

While work was my refuge and what I did to escape, home was a painful reminder of what was missing from my life. I’d had the bedroom completely redone and the furniture replaced yet his presence lingered there, haunting me. Standing at the sink brushing my teeth I could feel him behind me, the heat of his body on my back, his spicy cologne floating in the air as he invaded my personal space. All I had to do was close my eyes and it was like he was there in the room with me. I took to using the guest bath down the hall to avoid the memories.

Time marched on as it will and I built a life for myself. I had a home, work I felt passionately about and good friends who cared for me as deeply as I did them. I dated a few times at my family’s insistence but never the same person more than once. I didn’t want to give anyone the wrong impression and I had no desire to have another relationship. I wasn’t bitter I told myself I just didn’t have time. I’d given my heart once and had no interest in doing so again.

I missed Trowa, the sound of his voice, and the touch of his hand. I longed to talk to him, to let him see what I had done with my life. It had been a long struggle but I had finally come to terms with the choices I had made and laid them to rest. I still had the occasional nightmare and guilt but I did not let it control me anymore. I had battled it and won. I had made my choices right or wrong and I’d earned the right to live. Not to atone but to make a difference. Through the hours, days and years I made peace with the failure of our relationship and set it aside even though I could not bring myself to truly let it go.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He was sitting on the stoop when I pulled into the drive. Tired, stressed and wanting to just shower and go to bed. He was taller, broader and more mature looking then when I had seen him last. Still with the fall of brown hair and those long legs it was undeniably Trowa.

“Are you going to invite me in?” He asked, a shy smile on his lips, as I stood staring at him, unmoving from the walkway to the house. I nodded and strode forward to unlock the door. He accepted my gesture of invitation as I stepped back and held the door for him.

The same battered green duffle he’d always carried was slung over his shoulder and I had to fight down the urge to comment that his ability to commit was obviously limited to a piece of luggage. The duffle was deposited next to the door and he looked around the living room, noting the changes that had occurred in his absence. His eyes lit on the framed picture that graced the piano. One we had had taken not too long before he left. His smile softened and he gestured toward it.

“You kept the picture.”

I nodded, unable to speak. I wanted to reach out and touch him, make sure he was real not just another figment of my over active imagination. Then I wanted to hit him, hard. Over and over again until he hurt the way I had, the way I still did. The silence settled around us, closing in. I shuffled and cleared my throat. There was something I wanted, no _needed_ to know.

“Why?” I whispered. Afraid of what he would say.

“Did I leave?”

I nodded. He gestured for us to sit and we moved to the couch. He sat first, leaning back to stretch his legs out in front of him. I sat down cautiously, intensely aware of his presence. I wanted to be close but not too close, just being in the same room with him was pushing my resolve to forget him and move on with my life.

“I couldn’t take it anymore. I loved you, I _still_ love you and you were killing yourself with guilt. Trying to find some way to atone for your sins. I didn’t know how to help you. How to make you understand that you needed to let go of what happened during the war and stop torturing yourself with it. I wanted us to make a future together and you insisted on living for the past.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair before continuing. “I was just a kid. I had no name, no family and no idea of how to live in a world where soldiers were no longer needed. I didn’t know who I was let alone how to be in a relationship. I’d never loved anyone before you and Cathy came along and I sure as hell had never been _in_ love. I was scared. Scared of losing you, of losing myself, of being 17 and obsolete. You had WEI and the cause of peace to focus on. I had us and we were falling apart.”

He sighed again and studied his hands. “You were killing yourself Quatre, bit by bit and I didn’t know what to do, who to turn to. I was as lost as you were and I just couldn’t live like that. I thought maybe if I left you could find someone else, someone who would know how to be with you and be good for you. Someone who could help you see what you were doing to yourself. I just wasn’t ready to be in a relationship. How did I think I could help you find yourself when I didn’t know who I was? It was too much and I ran. Like a bloody coward I packed my things and ran.”

I blinked back the tears that started to cloud my vision. “And now?”

“Now? Now things are different. _I’m_ different. I’ve grown and matured. I know who I am. The real me not the one defined by someone else’s name or values. I know how I fit into the world, and that I can still have a place where I can belong without having to be a soldier. I found myself and my peace.” He moved closer and took my hand in his, his fingers caressing it softly. “I’ve missed you Quatre. I’ve missed _us_. Not a day went by that I didn’t think of you, wonder how you were and hope that you were happy. There was emptiness in my soul that kept growing the longer I was gone. I love you. I want to be with you.”

I studied him. It had been three years and he was not the only one who had changed in that time. I’d also struggled with figuring out what my place in was in this new world we had helped create. I‘d also grown and matured, coming to terms with my actions and putting them to rest. I wanted him back, desperately and yet part of me wanted to be able to look him in the eye and say it was too bad. He’d left and I’d moved on and made a life for myself, one that did not include him. I wanted to be able to say that I didn’t want him, didn’t need him, but I knew it was a lie. That if I let him go a second time I would never forgive myself.

“You walked out and left without even a goodbye and now you want me to take you back like nothing happened? You _hurt_ me Trowa. I loved you and you broke my heart.”

He flinched, sadness and pain visible on his face. His fingers tightened around my hand and then released it. “I know and I’m sorry. I wanted to be with you, I just didn’t know how. I love you, I always will. I had just wanted, hoped...” His voice trailed off and I couldn’t help but ask.

“Hoped what?”

His words were barely a whisper and yet they cut into my heart in a way the things we screamed at each never could.

“...that I could come home. That you’d still want me.”

The pain and naked longing in his voice shattered the last of my resistance but still I held on. Not quite ready to let him back in. I had to protect myself; if he hurt me again I would never survive it.

“ _If_ I let you stay how do I know that I won’t come home some night and find you gone?”

His eyes came up to meet mine, a glimmer of hope shinning in their depths.

“One of the things I’ve learned is that I don’t want to be without you ever again. I know who I am now and I’m ready and able to make a commitment to you, to _us_. I need you Quatre, to be whole. If you give me another chance I promise the only way I’ll leave is if you decide you don’t want me here anymore.”

I chewed my bottom lip, weighing the truth of his words. I wanted to believe he meant the things he said. I had changed a lot in the time we had been apart so it made sense that he would have too. We weren’t children anymore. Trowa had never been one to make promises lightly and I doubted that had changed. My head had serious reservations about opening myself up again but my heart knew what it wanted. What it had always wanted.

“That all the luggage you have?” I asked. Jerking my chin towards the duffle bag that lay in the foyer. He nodded, a tentative smile quirking the corners of his lips, and I couldn’t help but return it with one of my own.

“Well grab it then and lets go get you unpacked.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It had been a month since he came back. We’d made progress in rebuilding what we use to have and adding on to it. We’d talked, we’d laughed and a few times we’d cried. I’d felt the guards coming down and my comfort level coming back. But, as much as I really wanted to be with him I was not going to rush back into anything. That was what got us in trouble last time. Each day it got harder to hold on to my resolution. It felt so right coming home to find him making dinner or reading and so wrong to go to my own bed at night when he was right down the hall in the guest room.

I’d thought the nights were bad when he was gone, but it was nothing compared to knowing he was so close and I couldn’t touch him. I kept picturing him sprawled out across the sheets, his body bathed by the moonlight. I wanted to get out of bed and go crawl in with him. Touch him and have him touch me. But I settled for the memories and my hand instead, muffling my moans when I longed to call out his name. I knew he would welcome me with open arms. He’d made that clear and had accepted that I was not ready to take things back to that level yet. Each day it got a little more difficult not to take him in my arms and hold him. The memories of how he felt, tasted, moved and sounded haunted me until they began to overlay what was in front of my eyes.

I’m not sure what finally pushed me over the edge but one minute we were standing in the kitchen discussing something completely mundane and the next thing I knew he was pinned against the counter and I was trying to crawl into his mouth. He pulled back, his chest heaving as he asked me breathlessly if I was sure this was what I wanted. Was I sure? _fuck yes_! I’d never _stopped_ wanting it. I moaned something incoherent and attacked his mouth again. He spun us around so now I was the one trapped. Stepping back he held my arms in place so I couldn’t move or reach for him. I whimpered at the loss of his body against mine and bit my bottom lip in frustration.

“Quatre” he said, his voice low and urgent. “I want to go to make love to you but I need to know this is what you really want. That you are ready to take this step and won’t hate yourself and me when you realize what you’ve done. I won’t take advantage of you or risk losing you again.”

I swallowed a couple of times and tried to clear the lust haze from my mind. Was I ready or was it just that my hormones were in overdrive? I thought back over the past month. We had done a lot of work towards rebuilding our relationship and I was beginning to trust him again. He had been true to every promise he had made and given me every reason to believe that he was here to stay. This was not just a friendship we were creating here but an adult committed relationship. It was time to take that step and become lovers again. We needed to do this, no _I_ needed to do this before I would be able to completely trust him and let him back in.

I took a deep breath to steady myself and looked into his eyes, holding them with my own so he could read the truth of what I was about to say.

“Yes, I want to do this Trowa. I want to take you to bed. I want to make love to you. I want to be inside of you. I need it, I need you.”

It was his turn to whimper and then his lips were on mine, stealing my breath and my will. His hands slid around my waist and down to my ass to pull my hips tight against his. I groaned into his mouth and tangled my fingers in his hair holding him in place. Some how his shirt disappeared and I was sitting on the counter, my legs wrapped around his waist. His fingers fumbled on the buttons of my shirt and when they would not cooperate he ripped it open in frustration. His lips whispered across my chest and down to suckle on my nipples one after the other. I arched into his mouth my hands scratching up and down his back. His hands went to the button on my slacks and I grabbed them, stalling their progress.

“Not...not here”, I gasped, wanting to be able to lie in his arms afterwards, to entwine my body with his and fall asleep in his arms. I needed him so much but I needed him like a lover not just a moment of lustful desire.

He stepped back and gave me room to jump down off the counter. I toed off my shoes and socks, watching as he did the same. He had filled out nicely, his chest and abs well defined and solid but not overdone. I gave into the urge to trace the lines of muscle with my tongue and was rewarded with a hiss as Trowa’s fingers fisted in my hair. I could feel his skin trembling under my touch as he fought for control.

“Quatre” his voice was breathless and raw. “If you don’t want me to fuck you right here on the kitchen floor you need to stop that. _NOW_!” He hissed again as my tongue flicked one of his nipples as I pulled away. His breathing was harsh, his chest heaving with the effort. I took his hand and led him out of the kitchen. We paused at the foot of the stairs and again at the top to ravage each other’s mouths and grind our hips together. We were almost running when we reached the door to my room. I needed him naked and on my bed. I was going to come in my pants if this went on much longer.

I rid myself of my remaining clothes and he did the same. He took me in his arms and eased us down on the bed. His skin was hot and dry where I touched him, velvet over steel. My mouth captured his and my hips bucked of their own volition, rubbing our erections together. I moaned, the familiar feeling of release coiling in my stomach and starting to spread out to my limbs. His hands were on my ass pulling me close and thrusting against me. The sound of his breathing in my ear and his teeth on my neck was too much and I came, screaming his name. The hands on my ass tightened and I felt him follow me over the edge.

I rested my head against his shoulder, struggling to breathe, my limbs shaking from the intensity of the orgasm. I felt him shift and the comforter settle over my legs and back.

“I’m sorry Trowa.” I whispered into his neck. “I wanted to make love to you.” I laughed quietly “It’s been a while, my stamina is not what it use to be.”

Trowa brushed back my bangs and kissed my forehead. “It was wonderful just being able to touch you. It’s been a while for me too.” He paused and then in a soft voice added. “I haven’t been with anyone since I left. I never wanted anyone but you.” His arms tighten around my waist holding me close against him. I lifted my head up to look at him, searching his face for any signs of deception and found none. I rested my face in my hand and leaned on my elbow so I could continue to study his face. My other hand caressed his cheek and chin almost aimlessly.

“I haven’t either” I admitted, “I went on a couple of dates because my family insisted but I didn’t even kiss them.”

“So” he ventured after a moment of silence. “That means you’re still mine.” He phrased it as a statement but I could hear the question hidden within those words, the hope held close to his heart.

“Yes, and you still belong to me.”

He smiled then, his whole face lighting up, and kissed me softly “Always love, always.” 


End file.
